Raised in a Barn
by The Cry-Wank Kid
Summary: Addie and Tate make Constance angry by being rude at the dinner table. Rated K for bodily function humor!


**Author's note: All I have to say here is that this may be the only Tate Langdon fanfic in existence in which he sheds not one tear. He, um... does something else pretty cool, though. This was meant to be funny but ended up being perhaps just a little sweet as well? Also, I didn't mention Beau because I didn't know how to include him without going completely AU. **

Years later, whenever anyone thought of the Langdon kids, they thought of high drama to say the least-deformity, retardation, mental illness, murder, death, and heartbreak. There was plenty of that. However, there were also days, nights, and moments in which they were just ordinary kids-rude, silly, a little gross, and always out to annoy their uptight mom, Constance. That family dinner in the winter of 1993 was one such night.

Addie finished setting the table just as Tate wandered in, wearing decrepit old jeans and a large, Bill Cosby style sweater. Constance glared at him. "You look like a damn vagabond," she clucked. "Goo-ood," the sixteen-year-old said in a sing-song voice, really in a mood tonight. He took the chair across from his older sister and punched her playfully in the arm.

"Hey Addie," he said mischievously. "Hey, hey. What's up?"

Addie giggled. It was going to be one of those nights. It was impossible for her not to feed off of Tate when he was being goofy, or vice-versa. How angry Constance usually got when they did this only fueled the fire.

The pair's mother brought a small, burnt-looking chicken to the table and sat down along with Larry, her new live-in boyfriend, whom neither Tate nor Addie liked. Tate hummed obnoxiously as Larry carved the chicken and Addie sucked down soda pop with abandon.

"Well?" Began Constance, trying impress Larry with a false charade of family togetherness, "Who would like to talk about their day?"

Everyone was silent for a second, and then Addie burped. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the exact response her mom was after.

"Nice!" Exclaimed Tate, high-fiving Addie as she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Adelaide!" Cried Constance. "That was entirely unladylike!"

"Good, I don't want to be a lady."

"Excuse yourself!"

"Nope! Not sorry." Addie crushed the empty soda can with one hand and made a sassy face. Tate, at this point, had his face buried in his cloth napkin, letting out high-pitched shrieks of muffled laughter. Constance reached over and smacked him hard on the shoulder.

"Don't encourage her!"

"It's just gas!" He managed from behind the napkin, still borderline hysterical. He wasn't sure why this simple statement was suddenly the funniest thing in the world, but it was.

Larry said grace and everyone began to eat. Addie made horrible faces at her brother as she attempted to chew the tough, sooty-tasting bird. Tate leaned back in his chair, humming loudly.

"Tate," said Larry, "could you please stop humming?"

"Sure," he said, removing his feet from the table and proceeding to chomp loudly on ice. Addie periodically opened her full mouth, making soft "waah" noises.

Constance shook her head in disgust. "You both act as if you were raised in a barn..."

When a few minutes had passed mostly without incident, she attempted her original facade again. "Tate," she began sweetly, turning to her son, "maybe you would like to talk about your day?"

The entire room was silent. The attractive-if-unkempt blonde looked around at his robotic mother, his dweeby pseudo-stepfather, and his sister across the table from him, who was barely holding it together. "Wait for it..." he lead in forebodingly, before letting one rip.

"_Yessss_..." He whispered, pumping his fist up and then down in slow motion.

"Nice one!" Cried Addie, her composure entirely gone, reaching clumsily across the table to high-five Tate and knocking over the green beans in the process.

"_Tate_ _Langdon_!" Yelled Constance at the top of her lungs.

"That's inappropriate, Tate," said Larry sternly.

"Oh, whatever!" Tate exclaimed. "I hear you fart way louder than that on like, a more-than-daily basis!"

"It smells a lot worse when Larry does it, too," muttered Addie, a bit more loudly than she'd meant to.

"Tate Langdon, go to your room!" Shrieked Constance.

"Thank you! Finally! Geez!"

"You too, Adelaide! Go this instant!"

Addie got up. "I wish I could fart at you on the way out," she sassed, flourishing dramatically. From the hallway, Tate could be heard breaking down completely into hysterical, maniacal laughter.

"We do not use that _word_ in this household! Both of you, _go_!"

Tate was waiting in the hallway for his sister. "Come hang out in my room with me," he whispered.

"That was awesome," Addie mused as her brother turned on his TV.

"Yes, Addie," agreed Tate with a satisfied smile, "yes it was..."

"But I'm hungry."

"Here..."

Tate dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a Violet Crumble bar, unwrapping it and offering her a piece. She went to take one, but the bar was warm and melty from being in Tate's pocket for so long, and chocolate got all over her hand. The siblings looked down at it for a moment before breaking into a new fit of giggles, trying to muffle the sound so that Constance and Larry wouldn't know they were hanging out.

And so the two passed the rest of the evening, watching Beavis and Butthead on Tate's small bedroom TV and snacking on his secret stash of candy, being as impolite and gross as they wanted.


End file.
